T2 Rewritten
by fweakin' awesome
Summary: Just like the title says. Instead of 10 year old John, how about 17 year old Jess? Will sparks fly between her Terminator guardian and herself? Rated T for language and later chapters, nothing bad. Terminator x OC CHAP 5 UP! FINALLY!
1. I'm a Terminator

The Corral was a sleazy biker bar, to put it mildly. Billy Bob, the owner, had a sawed off shotgun hidden under the counter to drive away unmentionables, mainly the ones who were drunk as a skunk or stoned beyond belief. And the parking lot was not much better; there were crushed Styrofoam coffee cups and crumpled napkins everywhere, giving the whole place the feel of a junkyard.

Between two semi-trucks which had been parked there for the night, a breeze stirred. It was a hot, dry wind, with a crackle of static in it. A tongue of blue lightning danced between the two metal trucks, hissing and spitting. Suddenly a sizeable chunk of pavement depressed, leaving behind a shallow dip in the once-flat concrete, and something was deposited there. When the electricity died away, it revealed a man. A huge man, to be precise. His muscles were sculpted like a Michelangelo statue, and his eyes were intense brown orbs that pierced your very soul. His hair was brown and spiky, sort of a buzz-cut that made him look even more dangerous.

He stood up, feeling the gritty, filthy pavement between his toes, and marched slowly towards the skuzzy bar. His eyes were scanning the motorcycles robotically, checking fuel levels, engine defaults, and the air in the tires, all with a quick glance. With a hard shove, he opened the swinging doors of the Corral.

Several waitresses brushed past him, then gasped in amazement and shock. Either the strange man was too drunk to notice or care, or he was a nudist, because he wore not a stitch of clothing on his hugely-muscled frame. _The view isn't bad_, mused several waitresses. Thick cords of muscles rippled around his stocky frame, all the way from his washboard abs to his carved calves.

A few bikers sniggered in derision and (to themselves) envy. The man gazed around the surprised crowd, ignoring the giggles of the waitresses and the blare of the rock n roll music. The search engine running in his head beeped; there was a man playing pool which had all of the necessary items.

"Give me your clothes, your boots, and your motorcycle." snarled the man, his accent heavy and almost indiscernible. The man he was addressing sneered, his cigar clamped between his teeth.

"You forgot to say please." the man chortled, blowing a cloud of smoke in his face. With a flick, he stubbed out his cigar in the man's shoulder. Normally, this would have people running and screaming, but the weird guy didn't even flinch. The strange man seized the biker's hand in a death grip, grinding several bones together and breaking two fingers.

A man whacked a pool stick across his neck, twisting it. The man heaved the biker through the kitchen window, and he landed on the stove. There was a muffled scream, and the strange man turned to the stick-wielding man and kicked him in the gut, sending him sprawling. Another biker stabbed him with a knife, but instead of hitting bone, there was a little _clank_. Before he knew it, his own knife was stabbed in his shoulder.

The remaining bikers fled, and the man stomped into the kitchen, where the original man he had assaulted was screaming on the floor. His hands and face were badly burned, and he was wielding a gun. Calmly, he jerked the gun out of his hands. The biker whimpered, then took out his keys.

"Take it!" he shouted. A little grin flickered on his face as he caught the keys.

Five minutes later, the muscular guy was dressed in full biker ensemble, complete with knife and pistol. He got on the bike (which was quite a nice one) and turned on the engine.

There was the heavy _chunk_ of a shotgun breaking, and the strange man turned around. Billy Bob, the owner, was wielding a shotgun. "Can't leave with the man's vehicle, son," Billy said sternly. "Now get off the bike before I have to put you down."

Menacingly, the leather-clad man stepped off the bike and approached Billy Bob. With a swift move, he snatched the gun out of his hands. Then he eyed the sunglasses in his chest pocket, and took those too. He got back on the bike, revved the engine, and took off at the maximum speed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Underneath a bridge, a cop car pulled up. It was a young, brunette cop with a tight blue suit and a shiny new badge. He took out his radio.

"I'm reporting under the Washington bridge on an, uh, electrical disturbance. I will be going home after this, okay, Marge?" he said, putting the radio back in it's holster.

"Ten-four, Mark." crackled the radio.

The cop turned around a pile of rubbish and wove in between two burned-out trucks, and saw a huge hole in the chain link fence. It was a perfect circle, the ends still glowing red hot and sizzling in the cool, damp breeze.

He didn't even see the lithe man coming up behind him. One quick blow to the base of his neck stunned him, and the man yanked the gun out of the young policeman's hands. There was a loud _bang_, and it was all over.

The lithe man settled himself into the cop car, dressed in a tight blue suit and a shiny new badge. He looked at the search computer that was bolted into the dashboard, then keyed in a name:

CONNOR, JESSICA

**Jessica Connor**

**Age: 17**

**Legal Guardians: Todd and Janelle Wilkens. 104 East Main Street. **

**Record:**

**Driving Under the Influence of a mind altering substance**

**Drunk and Disorderly**

**Breaking and Entering**

**Credit Card Theft**

**Assault in the third degree**

He took off, his destination 104 East Main Street.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Janelle ducked under the sprinkler and grabbed the paper. She hurried up the driveway and caught sight of her foster child, Jess, in the garage with one of her friends. The two of them were listening to some heavy rock on the transistor radio, and Jess and revving her small bike, checking for defects in the engine.

"Jessica, get inside and clean up your room!" Janelle shouted. Jess simply revved the bike again, pretending not to hear.

She gave up and went inside. When she was gone, Jess and her friend Mikey exchanged a grin. "Your parents are jerks." Mikey said. Jess nodded.

Janelle slapped the paper angrily down on the counter. "Oh, Todd, sometimes she gets me so mad!" she snapped, crossing over to the living room where her husband was watching baseball.

"Honey, move, you're blocking the TV," Todd complained.

"She hasn't cleaned that room of hers in a month," Janelle said. "Come on, Todd, help me out!"

Todd sighed, draining the last of his Coke. "All right, all right, since it's such an emergency." he said, heading out the door.

Jess and Mikey were on the little red bike, preparing to go to the arcade. "Jess, get inside and listen to your mother," Todd said.

"She's not my mother, _Todd_." Jess sneered, and they took off down the street.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_Up._

A slight grunt as Sarah heaved herself up.

_Down._

A little exhale of relief.

_Up._

Another grunt.

_Down_.

Another exhale.

Sarah dropped lightly to the floor, her body and torso dripping with sweat. Her brown hair was tangled and sweaty, and her fierce gaze could burn a hole in the wall.

A group of psychiatrists were walking down the hallway, clipboards in hand. A plump, gray-haired doctor was talking.

"Okay, this one is an interesting case. Sarah Connor, schizophrenic, insomniac, paranoid woman. She believes that a…Terminator, I believe it's called, was sent back in time to kill her. From the year 2029, if my memory serves me correctly." The gray haired doctor's tone implied what a ridiculous idea this was.

They all stopped in front of Sarah's door, and peered through the tiny window. Sarah had flipped over her bed, and was doing chin-ups on the upended leg of the bed.

"Morning, Sarah. How are you feeling today?" the doctor asked. Sarah paused, then turned around, a menacing smile on her features.

"Great, Dr. Gronke. How's the knee?" she asked.

Dr. Gronke licked his lips nervously, then turned to his flock of fledgling shrinks. "She, uh, stabbed me in the knee with my pen a few weeks ago. Anyway, moving on."

The gathering moved away, in search of better cases.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

A tall police officer knocked on the door of the Wilken's house. Todd opened the door, then folded his arms.

"Excuse me, sir, are you the legal guardian of Jessica Connor?" he asked politely. Todd sighed.

"Yup. What's she done now?" he asked tiredly. Janelle came up, her brown eyes worried.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. The police officer gave her a smile, a charming smile.

"Not a thing, ma'am. Do you have a picture of Jessica?" he asked. Janelle disappeared around the corner, and came back with a curling photograph of a rebellious looking teenager, with blue eyes as cold as steel. She was sitting on a dock, her black hair spilled across her cheek.

"She's a fine looking little girl, if I do say so. Can I keep this, ma'am?" he asked.

"Yeah, go ahead. There was a guy here this morning who wanted the same thing. Does he have anything to do with this?" Janelle asked.

"Yeah, this big guy, on a bike. Is our daughter all right?"

The police officer looked up, something flashing in those impassive eyes. "No, I wouldn't worry about him." he said calmly. "She's probably fine. Thanks for your time, folks."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Mikey paced impatiently as Jess hacked into the ATM on the corner. "C'mon, Jess, this is taking too long." he said.

Jess let out a slight hiss of exhilaration. "Hah! PIN number 9003. Withdraw three-zero-zero. Easy money, Mikey." She took out a wad of bills.

He high fived her. "How'd you learn stuff like that?" he asked in awe. She flashed him that dare-devil grin that drove boys wild.

"My mom taught me." she said, unzipping her backpack so she could stuff the money inside. Mikey caught sight of a picture, and he picked it up. It was a pretty blonde lady with a German Shepard behind her.

"Is this her? She looks pretty cool." he said. Jess snatched the photo away.

"No, she's not. She's a total psycho. That's why she's in the hospital. She tried to blow up a computer factory but she got shot and arrested." she said bitterly. For a second, her green eyes flashed, and Mikey caught a glimpse of all the stored up hatred against her mother.

"C'mon, lets go spend some money," Jess said, changing the subject. The two of them hopped on the bike and sped off.

They were at the arcade, changing paper money into quarters. Jess headed for the Astro-Blasto, just like she always did. Mikey was watching her, amazed by her reflexes. If she wasn't so tough and boyish, she would have been a Victoria Secret model. With her black hair cut in a slant across her jaw, and those hard blue eyes, complete with that slim, full body, she was an absolute knock-out.

Mikey took another five dollar bill. "I'm gonna go get some more quarters, kay?" he said. Jess nodded, not taking her eyes off the screen.

He was stopped as he made his way to the counter by a tall, blonde police officer. "Excuse me, young man, do you know this girl?" the officer asked him. Mikey glanced at the photo and feigned indifference.

"Nope, never seen her before." he said, then nonchalantly went over to Jess. "Jess! There's a policeman scoping for you. Check it out." he said, pointing. Jess looked up, and the officer stared straight at her.

Jess abandoned her game, going over to the fire escape exit. The police officer followed her at a run, knocking several children out of the way.

She ran down the hallway, dodging a fat man with glasses. "Hey! You shouldn't be in here!" he shouted, but Jess only ran faster, her mouth dry with fear. What had she done? Had someone seen her withdraw the money?

Jess opened the door, and whirled to her right. Time slowed to a crawl as she saw a gigantic biker, clad in black leather, with a box of roses under his arm. He opened the box, and pulled out a shotgun. Jess screamed, and turned to run, trying all of the doors. They were all locked.

The police officer came from the left, and the biker with the shotgun came from the right. She was trapped. The cop pulled out a pistol and aimed it straight at her.

"Get down." barked the biker, his accent thick and almost indiscernible. Jess complied readily, hitting the floor, putting both of her freckled arms over her head.

She then witnessed the first of the most incredible scenes of her life.

The biker fired the shotgun at the cop, but instead of spraying blood like it should have, it only left a gaping silver hole the size of a grapefruit. The cop reeled backwards, shaking his head dazedly. The biker seized Jess by the back of her tank top and pulled her in close, shielding her body with his. The cop shook himself for the last time, and proceeded to empty a full clip of bullets at the biker. But instead of tearing through flesh and bone, they struck him with a hollow pinging sound, like they were striking metal instead of skin.

When the cop paused to load more ammo into his pistol, the biker crushed a doorknob in his massive, calloused palm and broke the lock, shoving Jess inside. He turned around and shot the cop four more times, but they left more huge silver holes.

Jess took advantage of this momentary distraction and bolted to the parking garage. She stepped on her bike, trying to turn it into gear, but nothing caught.

She tried and tried, swearing a blue streak, when she heard the elevator ping. The cop stepped out, his eyes ice cold.

Finally the chain caught and she took off, the cop in close pursuit. She risked a glance behind her and screamed again. Damn, he could move fast! He was sprinting towards her, and the little bike was already in it's highest gear.

The bike shot through a hedge, narrowly missing a middle aged woman doing her shopping, and Jess whirred into the main flow of traffic.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The biker brushed the glass off of himself and stepped back into the parking garage, picking up the shotgun and running after them. He got on his motorcycle and sped into the traffic, his brown eyes scanning the crowds. Then he saw them.

Jess was going as fast as she could on the little bike, and right behind her was a huge black truck. He had no time to wonder how he got the truck, because he turned around sharply and was soon in close pursuit.

Seeing the biker behind him, the cop started ramming the truck into the concrete walls, trying to cut him off. But the biker sped up just a fraction, and zipped by. He rode alongside Jess, who was ashen faced and looked terrified.

He grabbed her backpack and hauled her roughly onto the bike in front of him. Jess automatically took over the motorcycle, leaving the biker free to turn around and fire several more shots at the truck.

Jess swerved quickly to the right, and the truck couldn't follow. It smashed into the concrete sides, tearing a tiny hole in the gas tank. A spark from the ignition lit it, and the whole truck exploded in a fiery inferno.

They pulled on the brakes, turning around. Jess noticed the biker dude was doing a strange twirling thing with the shotgun, and he was firing it with _one hand_. How does someone fire a shotgun with _one hand?_ Jess through frantically.

A burning tire rolled slowly out of the wreckage, and the biker aimed the shotgun at it. After a moment, when nothing else emerged, he relaxed and flipped the shotgun back into the holster on the bike. They tore off, leaving nothing behind them but the burning wreckage and a couple of skid marks.


	2. The Beginnings of a Plan

They weaved in and out of several lanes of traffic, dodging trucks and minivans. Jess was trembling violently, then suddenly the words burst out of her mouth.

"Okay, time out! Stop the bike! Come on, stop the bike, time out." she cried, gripping the handlebars with her sweaty, shaking hands. Obediently the biker pulled into a side street, and put the kickstand down.

"Now don't take this the wrong way, but you are a Terminator, right?" asked Jess, getting off the bike and staring at him, her blue eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.

"Yes. Cyberdyne Systems model 101." the Terminator stated calmly, and began reloading the shotgun with shells from his pockets.

"Shit," Jess swore, walking slowly around him. She poked a finger through the holes in his leather jacket. "So you're like…a machine underneath, right?"

The giant flicked the shotgun back in it's normal position. "I am a cybernetic organism, living tissue surrounding a metal endoskeleton." he growled.

"This is deep." she said. With a trembling finger, she traced his rugged jaw line, then dipped a finger into the holes in his tight gray muscle shirt. It came up bloody.

"Okay, then, so you're not here to kill me. I figured that part out for myself. So what's the deal?" she asked.

"My mission is to protect you." the Terminator say, impaling her with those mirrored sunglasses.

"Who sent you?" Jess asked suspiciously. If he said "robots" she was out of there in a flash.

He stared at her as if it were obvious. "You did. Thirty five years from now, you reprogrammed me to be your protector here, in this time."

"Damn." said Jess. The Terminator suddenly turned around, his eyes scanning the alleyway.

"Come on. We have no time to lose." he said, helping her on to the bike. His calloused palm nearly swallowed Jess's hand, which felt delicate in his grip.

"But I thought he was dead." Jess said. He looked at her with something like pity.

"No." was all he would say.

It was several miles down the highway before Jess scraped up the courage to ask another question. "So this guy is a Terminator like you, right?" she asked, holding onto his muscled waist tighter.

"Not like me. He is a T-1000, a prototype model." he said.

"What the hell is that?" she asked.

"Liquid metal." said the Terminator calmly.

"So this guy's more advanced then you?" asked Jess, her mouth going dry.

"Affirmative." barked the Terminator.

They traveled for almost three miles before Jess thought of another question. Luckily, the Terminator seemed perfectly complacent with answering her questions.

"Hey, can we stop by my house first? I need to pick up some stuff," Jess said.

"Negative. The T-1000 would definitely be waiting for you there." said the Terminator.

"You sure?" Jess asked. He turned to her.

"I would."

A little cold pit of fear began gnawing at Jess. She was with the same man who murdered her father. Not that she cared much for her father; she had never met him, after all. But still! She was in the presence of a killing machine. But he was gentle, almost tender with her, which threw her off guard even more. He was handsome, that much was clear; but Jess had never been one to fall for a guy just because of their looks. Still, even _considering_ that this man was remotely attractive scared her. He was a murderer, a robot, a machine. Not even human!

But there was no denying it. He _was_ handsome.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sarah stood in her psychiatric issue gown, a baggy gray hospital type with blue polka dots. Her hair was neatly combed and washed, her brown bangs fluffy and neat. She was smoking a cigarette, her nails clipped close to the quick. Dr. Gorke was sitting across from her, the two of them watching a video.

In the video, Sarah was sitting at the very same table, her face in her hands.

"-I'm standing at a chain link fence, watching myself with Jess at the park…and I scream for them to run, because I know it's coming, it'll be there soon…" she broke off, blinking hard, looking at Dr. Gorke. "The dream is the same every night, why do I have to keep telling you?" she asked bitterly.

"Keep talking, Sarah," Dr. Gorke said in the video.

"Then the blast wave hits them," Sarah continued, her eyes going blank with horror. "And their skin peels away like dead leaves, and I watch it float in the air…My flesh slides off my bones…" She stood up abruptly, her eyes wild.

"Sarah, calm down." Dr. Gorke said calmly.

"Don't you get it? I know the exact day this happens, the very _day_, Dr. Gorke! Do you get it? You're all dead, do you hear me? You're all _dead_!" Sarah screamed, thrashing around. Orderlies come in quickly to restrain her.

Dr. Gorke froze the video when the camera landed on Sarah's enraged, livid features.

"I'm much better now," Sarah protested. "Clearer…calmer."

"Yes, you have shown much improvement," said Dr. Gorke encouragingly.

"It's helped me a lot, you know, to have a goal in mind." Sarah said, stubbing out her cigarette.

Dr. Gorke smiled. "Oh, really? And what might that be?" he asked.

"Well, you said if I improved in six months, you would transfer me to minimum security, and I could have visitors. I need to see Jess. She'll be eighteen in a few months, you know." Sarah said, her eyes going misty at the thoughts of her girl.

"Yes, I know. But I need to ask a few questions. First you say that the Terminators do exist, and now you say they don't. Why the sudden change?"

Sarah's eyes glazed slightly, then flickered. "There would be evidence," she said quietly. "Remnants in the compressor…things like that."

"What happened to your theory that they hid the evidence?" asked Dr. Gorke, referring to his file.

Sarah looked away. "No. Why would they?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Almost three hundred miles away, in a huge lab called Cyberdyne, there was a man named Miles Davis. He was a hard-working, intelligent man, and he was the lead researcher for this particular squad.

"Mr. Davis! Mr. Davis!" a youthful voice called. It was an intern, with scraggly blonde hair and a perpetual lollipop in his mouth, which made his words slightly garbled.

"Um, they need you to sign out on…it. You know, it? Whatever it is." said the intern, holding his diet soda on his clipboard. He offered the clipboard to Miles, then hastily withdrew the soda.

The two of them walked towards the lab doors. "Uh, Mr. Davis?" the intern asked hesitantly. Miles raised an eyebrow. "Can you tell me…I mean, if you know, of course…where they got…it?"

Mile signed the clipboard with a flourish, and handed it back. He had a grim smile on his features. "You know, I asked them that very same question the first time I saw it and you know what they said?" he asked. "Don't ask."

The intern shrugged, then left, leaving Miles alone in the lab. Miles went over to the guard, taking out his specialized key. "Morning, Jack," Miles said cheerfully.

"Morning, Miles. How's the family?" Jack asked. Miles smiled.

"Doing fine. On three-one, two, _three_." The two of them turned their identical keys at the same time. The keys had to be turned within a second of each other, otherwise the silent alarm would go off and the police would be swarming all over the building in minutes.

Miles entered the vault, hearing the pneumatic hiss of the door behind him. He went over to the wall and entered his password. A section of the wall popped out silently, and there, contained in a tiny Plexiglas case, was the fragment of a memory chip. It was insanely complex, more difficult then anybody had ever seen before. And next to it was a mechanical arm, larger then the size of most humans, but only by a bit. Miles looked at them both, a little knot furrowing on his brow.

0o0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o

Dr. Gorke rubbed his temples. "Look, Sarah, I know how smart you are. And I have a feeling that you haven't really changed. You're just telling me what I want to hear. So, I don't have any other options. I'm going to have to recommend to the Security Board that you stay in maximum security for another six months."

Sarah was watching him, a look of savagery on her face. Without a seconds warning, she lunged at him, her face contorted with rage. Her hands, calloused and strong from all the pull ups in her room, were around his neck, seizing his tie, choking him as hard as she could.

"You _bastard! You don't know what you're doing, you son of a bitch!_" Sarah shrieked. Orderlies rushed in, restraining her with Velcro straps and straitjackets. A needle was jabbed into her neck, and a piercing scream tore itself out of her mouth.

Dr. Gorke stepped back, rubbing his neck, his eyes still wide. He turned to the one-way mirror that covered one wall, and sighed. "Model citizen," he said ruefully.

0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

They stopped for a phone booth a few miles down the road. Jess dug into her pocket, bringing out a wad of unused bills. She looked at them with a bitter mixture of regret and sadness. Only a few hours ago, she and Mikey were planning on spending this in the best and loudest way possible. Now she was being pursued by a robot from the future, and being protected by the same machine who killed her father.

"Look, Todd and Janelle are dicks, but I gotta warn 'em." she said. She stuffed the bills back into her pocket. "You got a quarter?" she asked.

Without a word, the Terminator smashed his fist into the change drawer, spilling nickels, dimes and quarters over the floor. Silently he picked one up and handed it to her. Jess shook herself and put the quarter in the slot.

The phone rang once, twice. Then Janelle's voice. "Hello?" she said. Jess sighed with relief.

"Janelle? You and Todd okay?" she said worriedly.

"Jess? Is that you?" Janelle asked. Something didn't feel quite right to Jess. _She never calls me Jess_, she mused.

"Yeah." Jess said.

There was a little relieved noise at the other end. "Oh thank God, Jess, I was beginning to worry. Look, it's late. If you hurry home we can have dinner together."

Jess covered the phone with her hand. "Something's wrong, she's never this nice." she mouthed at the Terminator.

He took the phone away from her and held it to his ear. "Jess?" Janelle said again. "Where are you? Are you all right?"

Then, to Jess's shock, he opened his mouth and imitated Jess's voice perfectly. It didn't even sound like an imitation. "I'm fine. I'm right here."

Todd opened the refrigerator door and took out a carton of milk. He raised it to drink, then stopped. He looked out the window.

"Hey, shut the hell up! Stupid dog," he muttered. He shrugged at Janelle. "Thought you were gonna tell her to get rid of that mutt."

Calmly, Janelle shifted the phone to her other ear. With her right hand, she impaled Todd with a four foot long shining sword that had sprouted from her arm.

"Honey, where are you?" she asked again.

He covered the phone with his hand. "What's the dog's name?" he asked.

"Max, why?" Jess said.

"Hey, Janelle, what's wrong with Wolfy? I can hear him barking." he said, again in that perfect imitation.

"Wolfy's fine, honey. He's just fine. Where are you?" Janelle asked again.

He hung up the phone. "Your foster parents are dead." he said brusquely.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Janelle watched her husband die with disinterest. Todd gurgled, vomiting blood from the corners of his mouth, his speech impaired by the sword that had stabbed him directly in the mouth. With a little jerk, she withdrew the sword, and Todd slumped to the floor.

She looked at her hand as it slowly faded from silver to gray, then finally to skin tones. A little smile twisted her lips, a spark of malicious pleasure in her eyes. Then she turned away, her whole body going bright silver, like liquid metal, then forming into the shape of a young police officer.

"Wait, you're telling me this thing can imitate anything it touches?" Jess asked, her eyes bright with fear.

"Affirmative." said the Terminator.

"So, how about a pack of cigarettes?" she asked.

"Negative. It can only transform into something of equal size and body mass." he said.

"So why didn't it just become a bomb or something to get me?" Jess asked, her voice bordering on hysterical.

"Bombs and guns have complex machinery, moving parts. It doesn't work that way." he said, still on scan mode.

"So what can it form?" she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Knives and stabbing weapons."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Two detectives, one of them middle aged and balding, the other younger with a heavy moustache, stood in front of Sarah Connor. The balding one had one black suspenders, and threw two photographs in front of her.

"Sarah, these pictures were taken eighteen years ago, down at the Nevada police station," he was saying. The pictures were of a muscular, leather clad man with a striking jaw and sunglasses. "And these," he said, tossing out more pictures, "Were taken today, at the mall downtown."

There was no doubt about it. They were the same muscular man, same sunglasses, same menacing frown on his face.

"Ms. Connor, we know you know this guy," said the man with the moustache.

It took every ounce of willpower in Sarah not to scream "That's the man who killed Kyle!" but she remained calm. Her stare was blank and expressionless.

The bald man waved a hand in front of her face. "We're wasting our time." he snapped, and turned to Dr. Gorke.

"Sorry guys," Dr. Gorke said. "She just becomes more and more detached from reality."

Unbeknownst to them, Sarah secreted three paperclips, which had been used to secure the photos, in her hand. When none of them were looking, she transferred them to her mouth.

"Nelson, take her back." Dr. Gorke said. The mustached man started to gather up the photos.

"Come on, sweet heart." said Nelson, a pudgy guard who was in charge of maximum security.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

. Jess sat on the hood of a burned out car, talking, while the Terminator swiveled slowly, scanning the area for potential threats. The only people in sight were two pimps who were talking in low voices across the street.

"Mom dated this guy once, down in Mexico? You know, running guns. She'd shack up with anybody so she could teach me to become this '_great military leader_'." Jess said with a snort. "And then poof, it's like, 'Sorry kid, your mom's a psycho, didn't you know?'"

Jess paused, her eyes far away. The Terminator paused for a moment in his scan mode, watching the bitterness slowly fade away behind those icy blue eyes.

"I _hated_ her for that," Jess snapped, slamming a fist into the roof of a car. "But it turns out it was true…" she looked bleakly at the Terminator, and his brown eyes softened when he saw the terror and fear and weariness in her blue eyes.

"Nobody believed her," Jess said quietly. "Not even me." She turned to the Terminator. "We gotta bust her outta there," she said fiercely.

"Negative. The T-1000 would assume Sarah Connor's form, and wait for you to make contact with her. It is not a mission priority." he said in that gravelly no-nonsense tone.

"What happens to the people who are imitated?" Jess asked.

"Usually, the host is terminated." he said.

"Why didn't you tell me that?" Jess shouted. "Quick, we gotta go right now!"

He seized a handful of her shirt as she tried to make for the bike. "Help, help! Somebody help!" Jess screamed.

"This is not assisting our mission," said the Terminator with a sigh.

The two pimps across the street took notice. They flicked out their cigarettes and started over.

"Let _go _of me, you dickwad!" Jess shrieked. Instantly, he let go, and she fell onto the pavement with a surprised "oomph".

"Why did you do that?" she asked. He leveled his sunglass-covered eyes at her.

"Because you told me to." he said.

"Wait…you have to do what I say, huh?" Jess said, picking herself up. Despite her skinned elbow, a grin was unfurling on her face. "Prove it. Stand on one foot."

Without hesitation, he lifted one knee in the air. Jess whooped and hugged herself.

"Yes!" she said. The two pimps reached them, out of breath. One was a fat black man with an afro, and gold bracelets jingling on his wrists. The other was a medium-sized white man, well-built, but puny compared to the Terminator.

"You okay, kid?" said the white man. Jess sneered at him.

"Get lost, bozos." she snapped. The black man sighed.

"C'mon, Lewis, let's get outta here." he said. Lewis growled at Jess.

"You little bitch," he snarled, then turned to leave.

"Did you just call _moi_ a bitch?" Jess laughed mockingly. Then, to the Terminator. "Grab this dickhead."

The Terminator grabbed Lewis by the hair and hoisted him in the air. Lewis screamed, tugging, but he only pulled harder. The black man wrapped an arm around the Terminator's neck. The Terminator grabbed his arm and twisted-_hard_.

There was a grinding crunch of bones, and the black man fell, yelping, to the pavement. The Terminator turned quickly, and pinned him against the car. To Jess's horror, he pulled a pistol out of the waistband of his leather chaps and aimed it square at his chest.

"_NO!_" Jess screamed, and pushed the gun out of the way as he fired. It missed the black man, biting deep into the rusty hood of the car instead. "Beat it, you guys!" Jess shouted, and the two of them left, screaming for the police.

"You were gonna _kill_ that guy!" Jess said in shock. He stared at her dully.

"Of course. I'm a terminator."

_Duh,_ Jess thought to herself. "Well, you're not a terminator anymore, you got that? Now, I am gonna rescue my mom, and _you're _gonna help me." She handed the pistol back to him.


	3. Escape from Maximum Security

Sarah lay motionless on her bed as the orderly strapped her in. She heard the familiar ripping noise of the Velcro straps being re-secured, and the little _chink_ of the shiny lock on her chest being locked. The orderly watched her closely for any signs of life. She was the prettiest girl in his ward, and it was late. After a quick glance around, the temptation was too great. He licked her cheek slowly, tasting her salt, half-hoping for a reaction.

Nothing.

Her eyes were still dull and listless, staring blankly into space. "Huh…" he said. Then he went out, locked her door, and began running his baton against the wall, making rattling, thumping noises.

Sarah waited calmly until the noise died away down the hall, then sprang into action. Quickly, she spat out the paperclips near her hand, and she straightened it out as best she could, but still leaving a few kinks in it. She did the same with the second one, then jimmied the lock on her chest. It stuck for a moment, reluctant to be opened by this alien thing, but in a few minutes she got open anyway. With a sigh of relief, she shrugged herself out of the white ropes, then used her teeth to tear off the Velcro restraints.

She tore off a strip from her gown to tie her hair back. A little yank and a pull, and her hair was tied back in a messy pony tail. She carefully picked up the two paperclips and began working on the lock on her door.

0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o

A young police officer walked quickly into the Maximum Security ward, his badge twinkling in the industrial lights. Everything was hospital white; the walls, the ceiling, and the chairs. Except for the floor, which was a black and white tile, it looked as though an artist had done a sketch, then forgot to add color.

He went up to the elderly lady behind the desk. "Excuse me, but do you have a Sarah Connor here?" he asked politely.

She smiled at him. "You're a little late, aren't you? They've already been in there for an hour."

This puzzled him until he caught sight of the two detectives, accompanied by Dr. Gorke and two uniformed officers, in the mirror on the wall.

"Hold on, I'll buzz you in," she started to say. "Oh, wait, here comes your friends now." She turned to the place where the young cop had been, but there was nothing there. She peered around the desk nearsightedly, blinked, then shrugged.

There was a loud rap on the glass door, and she buzzed the detectives in, still confused.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Terminator and Jess halted just outside the gates to the psychiatric hospital. "Why are we stopping now?" the Terminator asked wearily.

"Just to make sure you're not going to kill anybody." she said.

"I will not kill anyone." he said impatiently.

"Swear?" she asked. He turned around, a knot forming between his eyebrows.

"What?" he asked. This human used some very strange phrases.

"Just put your hand up and say 'I swear I won't kill anyone'" Jess said. He did so.

"I swear I will not kill anyone." he intoned.

"Good, now c'mon."

They rolled into the drive through, and the security guard stepped out of the little shed. "Visiting hours are 10 to 6, Monday through Friday-"

The Terminator got off his bike and pulled out his pistol, shooting him twice in the kneecaps. He punched through the window and opened the gate, then took the keys and Taser off of the guard.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jess shouted. The Terminator calmly got back on the bike.

"He'll live." He quipped. Jess almost laughed. A Terminator with a sense of humor. Who knew?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Nelson, the orderly, walked down the hallway, checking all the doors. Before he got to 304, which was Sarah Connor's room, he saw the open door of a utility closet. Pulling out his flashlight, he peered inside. He was about to close the door when he saw that the mop had been broken in two, with the stick gone. All that remained was a few inches attached to the mop head, and it was splintered at one end. Shrugging, he started to close it again when-

_WHAM_

Sarah skipped out of nowhere, whacking him clean across the face with the mop handle. He was about to cry out when she hit him again, this time at the base of the neck. He gave a muffled groan, and fell face first on the clean linoleum. She rifled through his pockets expertly, taking out a ring of keys and stealing his baton. With a little skip and a jump, she crept down the hallway silently, twirling the baton as she went.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Tony was a fat, balding man with a bristly mustache and red hair, or what was left of it. His buttons strained to pop on the front of his khaki shirt that barely covered his pudgy gut. He marched down the hallway, hearing his boots squeak on the clean floor.

But not all of it was floor.

Making as much noise as a spider, the T-1000 pulled himself up from the floor with painstaking slowness. He had melted himself to become part of the floor, and now he slid upwards, forming himself into an exact imitation of Tony.

"Hey, Lisa, you want a cup of coffee?" Tony yelled to the front desk. He put a Styrofoam cup on the automatic coffee maker, and watched the stream of bitter liquid flow into it.

"No thanks. How about a beer?" Lisa asked. Tony laughed.

"Yeah, right." he said. The coffee machine beeped, and he took the cup off the tray. Lifting it up to eye level, he checked the "Secret sticker code" on the side of the cup. He got an ace, king, queen, jack of diamonds.

"Hey, Lisa! I got a full house!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Wow, it must be your lucky day." she called back, immersed in paperwork.

Tony turned around, and saw an exact replica of himself staring at him with a wide-eyed, angry expression on its face. He opened his mouth to say something to Lisa, but before he could, his mirror-image raised a finger, and pointed it at him. His cup of coffee splashed to the floor, spilling over his new shoes.

The finger shot out, turning bright silver, and impaled him right through his left eye. Tony gurgled unpleasantly, twitching grotesquely.

After the horrendous business of stashing the real Tony somewhere, (in a broom closet), the fake Tony knocked briskly on the glass door. Lisa buzzed him in automatically, still up to her watery brown eyes in paperwork.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Sarah made her way into the front desk, where Dr. Gorke and an orderly were still talking. She raised the baton and cracked it across the orderly's neck, hearing bone crunch and vertebrae twist. Dr. Gorke reached for the phone to call security, but Sarah smashed the baton on his arm with a savage growl.

"You broke my _arm_!" Dr. Gorke yelped, clutching the wounded arm to his chest. Sarah rummaged roughly through the janitor cart, bringing up a bottle of Drain-O and a syringe.

"There are two hundred and fifteen bones in the human body, Doctor. That's _one_." she snarled. She stabbed the needle and syringe into the Drain-O and pulled out a full five milligrams. "Now you better listen carefully…"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

At the lobby, the three guards on duty witnessed a terrible sight; Dr. Gorke had a syringe full of some blue liquid poked in his neck, and that crazy woman, Sarah Connor, was holding the needle. Her face was a mask of hate and rage.

"Calm down, Sarah, no one needs to get hurt!" called one of the guards, a female with a cast on her arm. Sarah had broken it two weeks ago.

"Open the frigging door," Sarah growled. The other two guards rushed to the glass door, batons in hand.

"Come on, Sarah, you won't do this," Dr. Gorke said in a wheezing whisper. "I know you're not a killer."

"Remember, Doctor? _You're already dead_!" She increased the pressure on the headlock she had him in.

"Open the door." Dr. Gorke ordered, his face going deathly pale. "Open the _damn door_."

The door opened with a little whoosh of released air. "Drop 'em!" Sarah ordered. The two guards threw down their batons and backed up.

"On the floor, all of you! No, not you." Sarah said, pointing at the other door with her chin. "Open that door, then get down and face the wall!"

She knew what she was doing. She had been planning this escape for weeks, months. How long she had studied the guards, waiting until the perfect opportunity, she didn't know. She knew their weaknesses, their fears. She waited for one of them to slip up, then she pounced like a tiger. They all feared her. They feared her because she looked perfectly sane, perfectly normal. But they knew she was as mad as a hatter. Terminators? Really?

Sarah backed up, the needle still in Dr. Gorke's neck. Unfortunately, behind her, an orderly was sneaking along the passageway, baton in hand. He rapped it lightly on her arm, enough to make her let go, and Dr. Gorke hurried away, out of Sarah's deathly grip.

With a quick skip, Sarah took off down the hallway. The orderlies were after her, of course, along with Dr. Gorke. He was ashen faced, and sweaty. The pain in his broken arm was monstrous.

Sarah raced down the passageway, unlocking the door and dashing through it. She locked the door just as they all piled against it, expecting for it to give. They beat against the glass, yelling, as one of them struggled to unlock the door. The next door was easier; it was simply metal bars stretched across the hallway, so Sarah could reach in and break off the key.

She turned the corner, skidding slightly on the linoleum, and banged her hand against the elevator. Of course; they were in lockdown, the elevators weren't working. She cursed herself for forgetting this crucial detail. Next time-

But then the elevator door on the left pinged. She dashed towards it, her eyes wide with relief and adrenaline.

Time slowed to a crawl.

Out of the elevator, like some giant demon from Hell, the Terminator stepped out. He was the same as ever; biker gear, shotgun in hand, that impassive, cruel sneer on his chiseled features. Sarah screamed, louder then she had ever screamed in her life, and pulled up, sliding on the floor, backing away from him on her hands and knees.

"_NO!" _She shrieked, getting to her feet. Instead of shooting her, like she expected, he followed her down the hallway. _He wants to make sure of the kill_, she thought hysterically. She was so deep in fear that she didn't hear Jess calling her name.

The orderlies piled on top of her, whipping out restraints and syringes, pinning her to the floor. Sarah was hysterical, her eyes mad with fear.

"He'll kill us all!" she screamed. She kept repeating this, over and over. "He'll kill us all! He'll kill us all! Get out!"

"You gotta help her!" Jess called. The Terminator pushed her back.

"Stay here." he barked. Jess did so.

To Sarah's utter surprise, the Terminator picked up one of the orderlies and flung him against the window. Of course, the glass shattered, but the glass had iron bars behind it and the orderly slumped to the floor, out cold. He tossed another one through the doorway, and he whacked his head against the wall. He didn't shoot them, like Sarah was expecting; he just knocked them out or crippled them.

The guard who had a cast on her arm slammed it against the Terminator's neck, twisting it. It should have broken any normal man's neck, but it didn't. His sunglasses skewed off his face, and he threw them off, then turned to face the guard. He shot her once in the leg, and she screamed, rolling to the side.

Dr. Gorke pressed himself against the wall, hoping against hope that the strange, leather clad man wouldn't notice him.

Jess kneeled down next to her mother. "Mom," she said. Sarah was still staring at the Terminator, her eyes wide. "_MOM_!" Jess cried, right in her ear.

Sarah turned, looking at Jess. It was amazing; why wasn't the Terminator pumping them both full of lead? What had happened?

Then, the Terminator offered her his hand. It was the most innocent of gestures, a token of chivalry and gentleness. "Come with me if you want to live." he said quietly.

Trembling, Sarah allowed herself to her pulled up. She sensed the raw power behind his cool brown eyes, felt it in the firm grip. Then he helped Jess to her feet too, and Sarah gasped in surprise.

The Terminator's head snapped up, his eyes in search mode. "Run." he snapped in a low growl. He pushed them both towards the open elevator doors. Jess yanked Sarah behind her, dashing towards them.

Because, at the other end of the hallway, there stood the T-1000.

He had changed form again, and was now in his usual form, the young policeman. His glare was cool and determined. The metal bars posed no problem; he simply melted through them. There was a little clink, and he looked down, surprised. The gun was still on the other side. He twisted it sideways and pulled it through.

The syringe cap dropped out of Dr. Gorke's mouth. He wondered how many years of therapy it would take to erase this from his mind.

The Terminator flipped the shotgun again, much as he had when he was rescuing Jess from the truck. He blew a huge silver hole in the middle of the T-1000's chest, but the robot kept advancing. He fired a few more bullets at the new robot, but they didn't seem to have any effect on him, except making him pause.

But a pause was all he needed. He made a sprint towards the doors, and they closed just as the T-1000 reached them.

They had made a grave miscalculation, though. A sword stabbed through the elevator doors, then shifted into two crowbars that pried the doors open. There was a little grin on the T-1000's face.

The Terminator coolly blew a hole in his head with the shotgun, making the T-1000 stagger back, his head nearly blown in two.

The doors closed, and they started to descend. Sarah clutched Jess to her, still amazed that the Terminator was defending them. The last time she had seen him, he was determined to kill her. She still had nightmares about those burning red eyes, crawling towards her…

_THUMP_

The T-1000 landed on top of the elevator. "Get down." the Terminator ordered, and Sarah pulled Jess to the floor.

A huge steel knife stabbed through the elevator ceiling, missing them by a fraction. The Terminator moved to the corner, and blasted a hole in the ceiling. There was a pause, then it stabbed again, this time slicing Sarah's arm to the bone. She screamed, grabbing her shoulder, blood pouring out through her fingers.

The blade flashed again, this time narrowly missing the Terminator himself, but he seemed not to notice. He blew another hole in the roof. Sarah swallowed hard, ignoring the screaming pain in her arm, and snatched the pistol from the Terminator's waistband. She emptied a full clip in the ceiling, and there was a small pause. She guessed she had hit him, and he was regenerating.

_Ping…_

Jess and Sarah raced out, closely followed by the Terminator. He smashed open a police car, and ordered them to get inside. They obeyed, Sarah in the passenger seat and Jess crouched in the back.

Out of nowhere, two metal crowbars lodged themselves firmly in the trunk of the squad car. The T-1000 pulled himself up on top of the car, the used his metal arm to smash the glass in the backseat. Shard of glass rained around her, and Jess shrieked in pain and fear.

"Drive!" the Terminator barked, and Sarah awkwardly grabbed the wheel with her one good arm, her left. The Terminator leaned out the window and shot the T-1000 squarely in the chest.

It toppled off the car, regenerating slowly. A tip of the crowbar had snapped off, and Jess stared at it in morbid fascination. She had a morbid idea that the tip of metal would call the rest of it, and she tugged it out of the car and threw it.

The car whizzed down the road, rapidly vanishing out of sight. The T-1000 walked carefully over to the crowbar tip that had clattered on the pavement. With a little effort, he sucked it into his polished boot.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Down the road, Sarah turned to Jess. "Are you okay?" she asked. Jess nodded, her blue eyes shining. It had been almost two years since she saw her mother, and at least five years since she was able to hug her.

"Can you even see anything?" Jess queried of the Terminator. He turned to her, while still driving perfectly. It was eerie, how he could multitask like that.

"I see everything." he replied.

Sarah motioned for Jess to come over, and she happily complied, hugging her mother. It took her a moment to realized that Sarah was patting her down, checking her arms and legs, her torso and neck. "Mom, I said I'm fine," Jess complained, withdrawing.

"That was _stupid_," Sarah said, her eyes flaring. "You can't risk yourself! You're too important! You can't do anything like that again, even for me. You were almost killed!"

Jess blinked back tears. What was she saying? Jess had risked life and limb to get her mother out of there, exerting all her skills and cunning, and her mother was berating her for it.

"I had to get you out of there," Jess said in a choked whisper. Sarah just turned away, shaking her head.

Neither of them noticed the Terminator watching them. "What's wrong with your eyes?" he asked Jess.

Jess cuffed bitterly at the hot tears that were impairing her vision. "Nothing." she said in a hard voice. "Nothing at all."

There was quiet for some minutes, then Sarah looked at the Terminator. "So, what's your story?" she asked.


	4. The Love Factor

**Author's Note: Okay, some wise guy PM'ed me and said "Hey, Terminators can't feel emotions, so why is he in love with Jess?" You know who you are. And I have this to say to you. SCREW YOU! **

**Okay, kidding. But he did have a point. So I added this chapter to explain how he can love. Please read, and as you well know, I love reviews! They make my day! And I always PM you and say thank you. **

**Summary: Jess modifies her Terminator.**

**Disclaimer: Um…yeah. I don't own him. Unfortunately. **

They drove for a few hours in relative silence, broken only by the muted sniffles of Jess in the backseat. The mothering part of Sarah told her that how she reacted had wounded Jess deeply, and that she should apologize-but the military part of her, the hardened part of her, told her that Jess was a world leader, and she couldn't risk herself in that way. Jess swiped at her eyes, staring out the cracked windows, willing the hot tears in her eyes to go away. She had risked everything, just like her mom had said, on getting her out of there. Jess had felt so guilty, not believing her mother for all those years, she felt obliged to break her out of the Maximum Security. But now, after flirting with death all those times, being rescued by the muscular machine on numerous occasions, she felt as though she'd done something wrong. She cuffed at her eyes again, and leaned her head against the cool glass, feeling it soothe her hot forehead. If only her troubles could be soothed away that easily.

When the car was driving on fumes and nothing else, the Terminator broke the silence. He didn't like doing this, mostly because while it was quiet, he stole the opportunity to rearrange his files in order of most importance. For a strange reason, he kept putting the "Jess" folder, (the file containing the little bit of information he knew about her) at the top, in front of all the other files. He put this off as a feeling of urgency to complete his mission, but his analytical brain told him it was bigger then that.

"The automobile is very low in gasoline," he grunted after a while. "We must find a safe location to reacquire some fuel and find a place to spend the night."

Jess said nothing, but she glanced at the Terminator in the mirror. He was so focused, so _driven_ to protect her-it was creepy and strangely relieving at the same time. The T-1000 had scared Jess badly, but having the T-101 protect her made her feel as though she could take on the world, balance teetering at the brink of death. She knew if Death were a cliff, and she jumped off on a whim, the T-101 would pull her back safely. She just _knew_ it.

They pulled into a machine shop-which was luckily closed this time of night-and found a scuffed old plastic jug containing gas, which the Terminator emptied into the car. It was enough for them to find a gas station the next morning, hopefully. Then came the problem of spending the night. The Terminator knew it was too dangerous to sleep outdoors, so he broke casually into the garage and had Sarah pull the car inside. Jess was reluctant to leave the slightly-warm interior of the car, but he yanked her roughly into the garage. She whacked him on the arm and christened him "lugnut".

Once the battered police cruiser was safely stashed in the garage, Sarah stepped out of the car, wincing. After the adrenaline rush had slowed down, then stopped altogether, she could feel the sharp throbs of pain in her shoulder where the T-1000 had sliced her. It was a deep, serious cut, but luckily it hadn't cut her to the bone. The T-101 sat her down firmly on one of the rickety bar stools in the garage and hunted around for a minute to find some surgical supplies. Jess, figuring that they couldn't find anything useful in a rusty garage, went to the police cruiser and found a first-aid kit, which contained alcohol swabs and some light aspirin, which wouldn't dull the pain any, but would make Jess feel better. She handed them to her mother with a glass of water.

The Terminator came back with some metal thread and a pair of needle nose pliers. Jess shuddered, feeling grateful that it wasn't her at the end of the metal thread. He steadied Sarah with one large hand and began stitching. Instantly, Sarah's back arched and her mouth opened in a wordless snarl, something that sounded like a mixture of a curse and a yelp of pain. The T-101 looked over at Jess.

"Calm her down," he ordered bluntly. "I cannot stitch her properly if she is moving."

Jess came over and held her mother's hand, which was worn with countless pull-ups, and squeezed it tightly. Sarah squeezed back, so hard Jess thought she felt her bones rubbing together. Jess gritted her teeth but said nothing, knowing that her mother was in way more pain then she was. Jess glanced at the Terminator.

"You do know what your doing, right?" Jess asked uncertainly. His face was impassive and calm, but he might have a "mission parameter" that forced him to be calm in the face of adversity. She had absolutely no idea.

He pulled another stitch through Sarah's skin and Sarah bit her lower lip. "I have detailed files on human anatomy," he said in a low, serious voice. His fierce brown eyes were completely focused on the task at hand, grisly though it was.

"I bet," Sarah growled, speaking for the first time. "It makes you a more _efficient_ killer." Sarah was still livid that the savage killing machine that had mercilessly slaughtered her once-time lover, Kyle Reese, was tenderly caring for her daughter. It was as though he were rubbing her face in it, as if to say, _Haha, I succeeded when you failed. Now I'm being nice to you because I fee like it_. Call it childish, call it whatever you want, she was still angry.

"Correct." was all he said. This irked her as well. He didn't show the slightest remorse. A small, sensible part of her reasoned: _He doesn't feel remorse, and he _is_ reprogrammed. _Her angry side promptly squashed her sensible part.

Then he finished, tying off the stitches neatly. Then he went over to the window, as if to assume his post. Jess stopped him on his way over. "Wait a sec, Lugnut. You have enough lead in you to build a small ship. Siddown on the stool, me 'n' mom'll stitch you up."

He shrugged and followed her orders, obediently sitting on the stool and shrugging off his jacket. Jess took it off his shoulders and he pulled off his tight gray muscle shirt, the kind body-builders wear. Jess held his jacket up to the light, inspecting the dozens of bullet holes in it. Sarah started poking around none-too-gently in the bullet holes that were scattered about on his back.

Jess looked over at him. He was still stoically sitting on the stool while Sarah began digging out the bullets lodged in his torso and arms. Each bullet had to be dug out, the hole had to be swabbed with disinfectant (a.k.a. alcohol, which burned like the dickens), and stitched carefully. Sarah was doing all of this, although not exactly mindful of his pain.

"Does it hurt when you get shot?" Jess inquired, tossing aside the jacket. He glanced at her.

"I sense injuries. The data could be called pain." he admitted, flexing his arm after Sarah finished with it.

Sarah saw the tentative bond being spun between the Terminator and her pretty daughter, and she would have none of it. She didn't want her daughter falling in love with a machine. She called Jess over, on the false pretense to hold the light, but Jess's questions didn't stop. Jess had long learned that the T-101 didn't mind answering questions.

"Can you learn stuff you haven't already been programmed with? So you can be, you know…more human? And not such a dork all the time?" Jess asked, touching his bandages gently. He turned his fierce stare on her, and his eyes softened slightly.

"I am a CPU, a learning computer. The more contact I have with humans, the more human I become. Although this is only activated when I am sent out into the field." he said after a moment.

Jess didn't want to know what "the field" meant. It probably meant sending him out to kill any humans who were stupid enough to be in broad daylight while a war was raging. "Is there any way we can switch it back?" she asked.

Sarah finished the stitches and set down the pliers resolutely. "If we're going to modify him in any way, you're going to have to do it. I'm not touching him."

Jess shot her mother a glare. "Mom, he can help us!" she pleaded. Sarah shook her head, then walked out. Jess sighed, then ran her hands through her short dark hair. The Terminator added a note to his "Jess" file: Runs her hands through her hair often; it is a sign of frustration. 

She picked up the pliers. "Okay, how am I going to modify you?" she asked. She didn't want to be cutting open her only defender, but there wasn't anything to help it. Jess didn't want him to stick out so much. If he could interact with humans a little better, he could also defend them better. _Also,_ a nagging little voice told her, _He might be able to be taught how to love, too_. She rejected this idea as soon as it entered her mind. He was a machine; she was the leader of the Resistance. They couldn't mingle. It had to be against some kind of law. If not now, then definitely in the future.

"Cut open my scalp at the base of my neck," he commanded, and Jess swallowed hard. She picked up a nearby X-Acto knife and slit a small gap on the nape of his neck. It felt so weird, doing this-it should be sending him through the roof or at least paralyzing him-but he didn't appear to have felt it at all.

"You will see a small motherboard. Take it out." he said. Again, she swallowed and set about widening the hole so she could see. Underneath was intricate, moving machinery that would take her days to process. Instead of trying to focus on all of the complex machinery, she saw one small microchip, lodged in the place where his spine should be. She plucked it out nervously. Instantly, the light faded from his hard brown eyes and he sat rigidly in the chair. Jess studied the microchip intently, noting the intricate circuitry. She found a tiny switch and flicked it, sending it from = position to + position.

She was about to load the modified chip back in when a though struck her. If she could change this, why not change something else? A reckless demon surged through her, and she examined the small hole she had made carefully. There was something else turned off, something that made her heart go wild and her mouth go dry.

LOVE FACTOR: =

Her mind went blank, and her hands automatically moved towards the switch, then she withdrew as if burned. If she switched it on, would something bad happen? Would he ever turn on again? And another terrifying thought struck her. If she turned it on, would he suddenly remember some old flame of his, some other robot that he desired? Her throat choked up at this thought, and for a moment she couldn't move. But she weighed her options, running through a mental list of all the things she liked about him. If he truly liked her, would she be able to like him back?

She flicked the switch to the + position.

Then she loaded the motherboard and the light came back into the T-101's eyes. His eyes jittered for a moment, running a systems check, then turned to her curiously.

"You activated the love factor?" he asked. She blushed deeply. She had been hoping he wouldn't find out, but how stupid was that? It was part of his "brain" of sorts, he'd be able to tell if a new thing was added.

"Did I? I must have flicked it by mistake," she lied, turning away from him. She began stitching up the gap on the nape of his neck.

The Terminator knew she was lying. Her pupils dilated, she averted her gaze, her pulse increased, and a bead of almost invisible sweat formed on her brow. Telltale signs that she was lying. But why would she lie about turning on the love factor? Then it hit him like a truck.

His charge was in love with him.

She probably didn't know it yet, but her mind was slowly realizing her affection for him. He cursed mentally, but showed no outward signs of disapproval. He turned to her, nudging her towards the smashed police car.

"You should sleep." he said. Jess nodded, still blushing, and went over to the backseat. She opened the door so she could stretch her feet out, and curled up, wishing the backseat were bigger.

Sarah came in, shivering. She saw her daughter dozing in the backseat and the T-101 standing by the window in Guard Mode. His vision was hard, focused, intelligent. The same kind of gaze Kyle had when he was protecting Sarah…she bit back the bitter lump that threatened to overcome her throat. Instead, she went over to the machine.

"She fixed you then, right?" she asked. It was all she could say. It took a minute before he answered.

"Yes." he said simply, but Sarah could sense he was holding something back. Something he didn't want to tell her. Sarah folded her arms and stood next to him.

"What else did she do?" she asked sternly.

"She activated the love factor," he said after a beat. Sarah felt her jaw make a 'thump' noise as it hit the floor.

"She _what_?" Sarah said, forgetting to keep her voice down. Over in the police cruiser, Jess stirred, then snuggled back down. Sarah spared her a glance, then turned back to the Terminator.

"I don't know why," he admitted. "But she had some reason to."

Sarah reached for him. "Well, how do we turn it off?" she asked. He turned his angry gaze on her.

"You are not permitted to modify my motherboard in any way, Sarah Connor." he snarled. She saw the glint of his natural personality, what he had been designed to do: kill people. Sarah snorted, unafraid. She had smashed one of these bastards to smithereens once, she could do it again.

"So what? You let her screw with your mind, why not me?" Sarah demanded. He turned away from her, as if bored.

"You are not one of my original mission parameters," he snapped. "I obey Jessica's orders; nobody else's."

Sarah threw her hands in the air. "So now what? She's in love with you?" she asked. He blinked, then sighed.

"My sensors indicate that she is indeed feeling a strong, unexplainable emotion towards me." he said after a moment. Sarah gritted her teeth.

"That's just peachy." she sighed, then went over to the barstool. "Don't you dare fuck with her mind, you got that?" she said, sounding for a moment like a mother bear protecting her cub.

"Why is it," the Terminator asked harshly, "That you feel a need to protect her only when I am involved?"

Sarah sputtered uselessly. What could she say? "You killed Kyle, you mother fucker," she growled.

"That was a different T-101," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "If I remember correctly, you destroyed him in a compressor. I am alive and fully functional."

If it were different circumstances, Sarah would have laughed. The Terminator was developing a keen sense of sarcastic, cutting humor that matched Jess's. The similarities between the two of them were growing by the day.

"Whatever," she said finally, resting her chin on her arms. Within minutes she was asleep.

*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*

Jess woke early, stiff and sore. It was very uncomfortable to sleep in the back of a battered police car-there were still shards of glass everywhere-but her only other option would be to sleep on the floor, and she didn't want that. She looked up and saw her mother asleep at the table, her head resting on her arms. The Terminator was still standing guard by the window. Just looking at him made her stomach flip-flop with shame and a strange emotion she couldn't place. She wondered if he still remembered what she had changed, then she chided herself. He was a computer; they remember everything.

She got out of the car and went over to him. He turned around quickly, then saw who it was and relaxed, if only marginally. "Hey," she said, rubbing her eyes. He scanned her with that piercing gaze.

"You're up early." he said bluntly. She shrugged and shivered. It was very early, and the cool morning dawn that would later give way to the blistering heat had not yet dissolved.

"Yeah, well, it may had something to do with being chased by futuristic robots. I'm not sure, but it might have a bad effect on me." she said sarcastically.

"That is correct." he stated. She stared at him, then laughed softly.

"Jeez, Lugnut, that's called sarcasm. It means when I say something in that sort of tone, it means I don't really mean it." Jess tried to explain.

He shook his head. "Humans are very confusing." he said. She smiled.

"Yeah, but that's what makes us so great. C'mon, let's find something to eat." she said. The Terminator didn't even bother to glance at Sarah, who was still asleep at the table. Jess didn't either. Her heart still burned with shame and anger against her mother for what she said.

They went out into the parking lot and found a green Volkswagen that was in good shape. The Terminator promptly smashed out the window and unlocked the door for Jess. She hopped in and was delighted to find a stale bag of chips, which she munched. The T-101 slammed his fist into the steering column and hotwired the car in a matter of seconds. Jess sighed, then flipped the sun visor down. A pair of keys fell out, sparkling in the feeble rays of sunlight. She dangled them in front of the Terminator.

"Are we learning yet?" she asked sarcastically, chewing on the chips. The Terminator rolled his eyes and drove the car around to the front of the garage.

*%*%*%*%*%*%*

Sarah woke up completely and thoroughly, as if someone had shaken her roughly. She turned around and saw a very empty garage. The first thought that entered her head was _They left me. _Then she decided it was ridiculous, because she heard the rumbling gurgle of a car outside, idling in the parking lot. Sarah stood up and stretched, then winced, gritting her teeth. The cut was neatly stitched, but her sudden movement was sending shivers of pain up her arm. She found an old denim jacket and tugged it on slowly, trying to ease herself into the creased blue cloth.

She went outside, squinting in the morning sunlight; the fiery ball of reddish light was creeping over the horizon, and she shielded her eyes. Then she saw the middle-aged Volkswagen idling in front of the garage, and saw a very strange sight.

Jess was sitting in the front seat, her feet propped up on the dashboard, her dark brown hair slanting across her cheek. Her hard blue eyes were glittering brightly with happiness and contentment, and she was laughing. And the Terminator, the machine, the killing robot that had mercilessly gunned down Kyle, was smiling.

Actually smiling.

A Terminator.

It suited his face well, made him look more human. Then he glanced up and saw her, and the smile disappeared as quickly as a fox down a hole. Sarah gave him her best sneer, and opened the back door. It rubbed her the wrong way to be seated in back-she was so used to be sitting in front-but she sat anyway, and listened to the conversation.

The Terminator zipped around a truck, blaring his horn angrily, and Sarah slapped his shoulder roughly. "Keep it under sixty-five. The last thing we want is to get pulled over."

"Affirmative." The Terminator said stoically.

"No, no, no, no." Jess said at once. "You gotta listen to the way people talk. You don't say 'affirmative'. You say 'no problemo'. And if you wanna shine 'em on, you say 'Hasta La Vista, baby'."

"Hasta La Vista, baby," tried the T-101. He liked the sound of it. Jess sighed.

"Yeah, but later, dickwad. And if someone's giving you a hard time, you say 'Chill out'. Or you can do combinations." Jess said.

"Chill out…Dickwad."

"Yeah, that's right!" Jess encouraged. Sarah sighed. It was going to be a long ride.


	5. Finally!

**A/N: Wow! I had no idea that this story would become so popular all of a sudden! Thanks a TON to all you people who fave'd me and my story. It's sooo gratifying to log into my inbox and see that I have 10 people who liked my story! Thank you again!**

**Oh yeah, and I recently got a comment begging me not to have Arnold die in the end…*smirks* You'll just have to wait and see!**

**I'm thinking of cutting the story short. I'll admit it, I'm impatient to get to the ending! LOL! What do you guys think? **

**Summary: Our motley gang travels south to Enrique's house. Sarah Connor notices the growing bond between the T-101 and Jess, and doesn't know what to do. **

**Disclaimer: *coughs* I believe I have mentioned what I would do if I owned Arnold Schwarzenegger… **

They stopped about fifty miles away from the garage at a tiny diner, the engine complaining loudly and emitting clouds of steam. Sarah swore loudly, kicking the tires, but the T-101 got calmly out of the car and yanked open the hood. Jess got out as well and leaned against the hood.

"Hey, Mom, can you buy us some food?" Jess shouted. Sarah glared at her daughter.

"In case you haven't noticed, they don't exactly allow inmates to have money." Sarah snapped. Jess dug the wad of bills out of her pocket and handed a twenty to her mother, who promptly claimed the entire stack of bills.

"Hey!" Jess complained. Sarah pocketed the money and glowered at her only child.

"Where did you get all this?" she asked. Jess scowled, burning a hole in the ground with her chilly blue eyes.

"I hacked the ATM back at home," she admitted finally, crossing her arms defiantly. Sarah sighed and went inside the small diner to get some food. Jess turned to the Terminator, who was carefully pouring some liquid into the engine.

"So you can fix it, right?" she asked. He glanced at her.

"Yes." he said. Behind him, two young children were shooting each other with fake guns, arguing loudly about who shot who. Jess caught his look, a mixture of sadness and expectation.

"We're not gonna make it, are we? Humans, I mean." Jess asked. The Terminator tossed the empty bottle aside and devoted his full attention to the pretty girl in front of him.

"It is in your nature to destroy each other," he stated. She sighed and watched the young boys as they were being dragged away by their mother.

"Yeah, I know. Major drag, huh." Jess said quietly. She realized how close she was to the Terminator, how much of his masculine scent she could inhale. It was a familiar smell of leather, grease, gasoline and gunpowder. A distinctly warlike smell, one that she discovered she liked.

Sarah came out of the diner with two Styrofoam boxes and saw the moment that passed between them. They were standing elbow to elbow, looking at each other with a fiery passion. Sarah cleared her throat loudly, and Jess jumped. She threw her mother an annoyed glance, then got back into the car.

They sat in the car, munching fries and burgers as the Terminator drove. Jess slurped her drunk loudly, rattling the ice cubes in her bottle. Then she flicked on the radio, expertly twisting the dial to a rock 'n' roll station. Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose. It was going to be a very long drive indeed. To offset this, she better cut to the chase.

"How does Skynet get built?" she asked the T-101.

"By a man named Miles Dyson. He is the originator of Skynet."

Sarah sat up. "How much do you know about him?" she demanded. The Terminator swiveled to pierce her with his hard eyes.

"I have detailed files." he said. Sarah clenched her fists, cutting half-moons into her palms.

"Tell me everything," she snapped. "Where he lives, what he looks like…everything."

OoooOoooO

The dusty road leading into the Mojave desert was full of dead roadrunners and potholes. The T-101 navigated the potholes fine, but he didn't seem to care about the carcasses of the little birds. Sarah winced every time she heard the sickening crunch of the car rolling over yet another dead body. It reminded her that she was riding along with a murdering machine, the same machine who had killed Kyle, the same machine…

Unfortunately, the same machine her daughter was in love with.

Speaking of Jess, Sarah noticed she seemed perfectly at ease. Her creamy white legs were propped up against the dashboard, and her eyes were closed, her dark lashes curled comfortably against her flushed cheeks. Her dark hair was covering one of her eyes, and cutting a clean line across her jaw. She was very pretty. Sarah found it hard to believe they had only been traveling for three days. Three days ago, she was in Maximum security. Three days ago, the T-101 had been killing innocent humans out on the battlefield. Three days ago, Jess was a normal unhappy teenager.

Sarah finally broke the silence. "Pull in here." she commanded. The Terminator complied, swerving hard and parking neatly in the dirt driveway. It was the only house - if it could be called that - for miles. It was a rickety trailer, dented severely and in desperate need of a good wash. A burned-out helicopter frame was perched lopsidedly next to it, and piles of junk were scattered around. Sarah motioned for the Terminator to stay here, and got out of the car. Everything was quiet, except for a tumbleweed blowing lazily across the empty terrain. She pulled out the handgun and waited.

A swarthy man jumped out from behind the burned out helicopter, wielding a semi-automatic. Sarah aimed the gun at him and the T-101 was out of the car in a flash, flipping the gun and pointing it squarely at the short man's chest. The swarthy Mexican's eyes widened, and he held the gun in the air.

"You're pretty jumpy, Connor," he growled in a thick Mexican accent. Sarah held her hand up to stop the Terminator from blowing a hole in his head.

"Así que usted es, Enrique. Estamos en problemas."* Sarah said.

Enrique smiled and hugged Sarah fiercely. "I've seen you on the news, all the cops are goin' nuts!" he said, grinning broadly. Sarah smiled for the first time since they had run away.

"Hey, big Jess! How you doin'?" Enrique asked. Jess smiled at him.

"What's up, Enrique?" she asked. Enrique eyed the Terminator ruefully.

"Who's your big friend?" he asked. Jess nudged the Terminator.

"He's cool, Enrique. This is Uncle Bob." Jess said smiling pleasantly. Enrique lifted an eyebrow.

"Uncle Bob? O-okay." he said. He called for a bottle of tequila, and a dark haired woman ran for it. Sarah and Enrique continued talking in rapid Spanish. The T-101, raised a hefty eyebrow at Jess. For him, this was extremely expressive.

"Uncle Bob?" he asked. Jess shrugged carelessly.

The woman came back and handed to bottle to Enrique. He swigged the burning liquid gratefully and offered it to the T-101, who shook his head slowly. Sarah grabbed the bottle and sipped it, feeling the harsh liquid trickle down her throat and warm her belly.

"Enrique, I need guns, food, and one of your trucks," she said. Enrique made to drink from the bottle again, nodding eagerly. Sarah stopped him. "_Now_, Enrique."

Sarah turned sharply to the T-101 and Jess. "You two, you're on weapons duty. The locker is over there, behind the trailer." she said, pointing. It was clear she wanted to be left alone so she could talk to Enrique. Jess noticed this and sighed, but tugged on the T-101's arm anyway.

"C'mon, let's go," she said, leading him over to an innocent-looking patch of ground. A rusty chain trailed along the earth subtly, and Jess tapped it with her foot. "It's under here," she said. Promptly, the Terminator seized the chain and pulled hard, revealing a narrow underground locker.

He went down first, scanning for any signs of a threat, but the only things down here were guns.

Lots of guns, as it turned out.

He helped Jess down from the ladder, and she scooted ahead, pulling off dusty sheets, revealing more and more weapons. "There's one benefit to my mom," she said, laughing. "She always plans ahead."

The T-101 found a grenade launcher and checked it for ammo. It was fully loaded. "Excellent." he growled approvingly. Jess fingered an M-16, sighting along the barrel. He noticed how easily she handled the weapon, flipping it expertly to check for ammo. She caught his glance and shrugged.

"I grew up like this, so I think it's normal," she said in answer to his questioning glance. "Riding around in helicopters…you know, stuff like that." she saw him go over to a tarp-covered mini gun. He hefted it, positioning it carefully in his muscular arms. Jess laughed.

"It's definitely you," she said with a smile. A lopsided smile quirked the corner of his mouth, and Jess nudged his shoulder. "C'mon, Lugnut, let's go upstairs at give this junk to Mom."

0o0o0o0o0o0oo0o0

Enrique was fiddling with the engine of a beige truck, cursing in both Spanish and English. Sarah came over to him. He glanced up at her approach and chewed his bottom lip. "This is my best truck," he said. "But it's missing a starboard motor. You got time to fix it?"

"Yeah," Sarah said. "We're not crossing the border until nightfall. I'll have…_Uncle Bob_ get right on it."

He shrugged, tossing aside a grease-stained hanky. "Let him try, then," he challenged. "It's pretty difficult."

Jess crawled underneath the truck with the Terminator. His gaze was intent, focused, driven. It was so familiar that Jess felt comforted by it, and settled herself down in the dirt. "You know a lot about engines," she said.

"I have a detailed file on the mechanics of a automobile." he said. Jess lay back in the dirt, toying with a socket wrench.

"Yeah….there was this one guy that Mom dated for a bit. Most of the guys she shacked up with were geeks, but there was this one guy who was okay. He taught me a little bit about engines." Jess said.

"Hold here." the Terminator commanded. Jess held the bolt in place as he tightened it securely.

"She wants to get back at Dyson, you know. For killing Kyle. She still loves him I guess." Jess said, turning over onto her belly so she could watch her mother. Sarah was sitting on a picnic table, smoking a cigarette and loading M-16's.

"It's weird…they only spent one night together. I hear her crying about it sometimes. She denies it totally, of course, like she's got something stuck in her eye." Jess said quietly. The T-101 turned to her, puzzlement etched on his handsome face.

"Why do you cry?" he asked. Jess was a little taken aback. It was the first time he had asked her a question, and not the other way around. She shrugged.

"You mean people?" she asked.

"Yeah." he said. Another first. The T-101 usually didn't use words like 'yeah'. He must have picked it up from me, Jess realized. It made him more likeable and more…human.

"I don't know," she said. "We just cry. You know, when it hurts?"

The Terminator thought about it for a minute, then rolled out from underneath the car. Jess followed his example, dusting off her hands and rubbing the dust out of her eyelashes.

"Pain causes it?" He questioned. Jess thought about it, cocking her head to the side. A dark slant of hair swung across her cheek, and the T-101 wished she would do it again. She really was quite pretty.

"No…well, not exactly. It's when there's nothing wrong with you, but you cry anyway. Get it?" Jess asked, knowing she had explained this badly. The Terminator reached in through the car window and turned on the engine, hearing it cough reluctantly into life.

"No." he growled. The car jumped suddenly, and the engine caught. Jess pummeled the air excitedly.

"All right, my man!" she cried, punching him playfully on the shoulder. "Gimmie five!" she said, holding her hand out.

He stared at her. Jess rolled her eyes.

"Hold you hand out like this," she said, and he did so. She slapped it. "Like that, see? Now you do me, give me five!" Jess held out her hand. He slapped it - hard. She winced, shook her hand to dissipate the pain then laughed it off. "Uh, okay, now up high!"

She taught him all sorts of tricks, unaware then Sarah was watching the two of them. Sarah paused in her mechanical loading of the weapons and watched Jess and the T-101 interact. There was no denying it - Jess was madly, wildly, unequivocally in love with the machine. And, even though it was hard to read, it looked like the Terminator loved her back.

_Watching Jess with the Terminator, it was all suddenly so clear. It was the perfect husband - the perfect father, the perfect boyfriend, whatever you want to call it. It would never turn away from her at night, never say it was too busy to hold her when she cried, or to join in her laughter. Of all the would-be partners Jess had dated over the years, this thing, this _machine_ was the best thing. In an insane world, it was the sanest choice_.

She made up her mind then, as soon as she saw what happened.

Jess punched the T-101 playfully on the shoulder again, and as soon as she did so, he caught he around the waist, pulling her close to him. Jess made no move to break free, just stayed still as a stone, her blue eyes wide. They were alone in their own little world, just staring deep into one another's eyes. He brushed his lips across hers lightly, tenderly, gently, and Jess melted. Her icy exterior that she had built up to show anyone who came close to her dissolved as soon as he kissed her. She closed her eyes and tilted her jaw, deepening the kiss further, raising one hand to cup his rugged jaw line, pulling him closer to her.

Sarah's heart did something strange when she saw her daughter kiss him. Her first instinct was to shoot him, and indeed, she raised the M-16 she was holding just a fraction. Then she remembered. This is how Kyle and she must have looked. Such an unlikely pair, so different, from two different worlds and times. But they didn't care.

She stood up and went over to the little green Volkswagen, jumping into the drivers seat and tearing off down the dusty driveway. Sarah glanced in the rearview mirror, and searched for them. She couldn't see the pair, but she doubted that they would notice her absence until a long time later. They had each other.


End file.
